


Eddie Vs. The Losers Club

by AnxiousBich



Series: Always Universe [3]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Stan, Eddie-centric, F/M, Face-Fucking, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Rare Pairings, Riding, Top Eddie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 07:59:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13383558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnxiousBich/pseuds/AnxiousBich
Summary: Literally just a series of PWP One Shots between Eddie and the rest of the Losers one-on-one. You don't need to read them all, there's no plot. I'll update the tags and the Summary when I post a new chapter.Ch. 1 Eddie/BenCh. 2 Eddie/Stan





	1. Ben

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blimps](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blimps/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am consistently terrible at tags and titles like fuck. 
> 
> First Chapter is Ben and Eddie, it's pretty short for me but I hope it's entertaining anyways. 
> 
> Shout out to okayrichie whose been hyping me the fuck up. 
> 
> I'm going to try and do this in alphabetical order... because. I don't have a reason. We'll see. The time in which each thing happens kinda bounces around since I don't really care, these are mostly just for fun and have no serious relevance to Always. Just know they all take place at some point after they move in together *shrug*. 
> 
> If you have something you wanna see from the other chapters/Losers, tell me pleaassseee and I might include it.

            Eddie does everything he can to not go downstairs. Beverly and Stan are already out, just like they wrote in next to their names on their ‘Life Tracker’, the one Stan had adamantly argued they needed if they were ever going to make any kind of plans, but he could still hear Richie’s loud voice and Bill and Mike’s much quieter tones. And then of course there’s Ben.

            The night before, when the group had begun filling in the tracker as they habitually did, his pulse had instantly spiked when he realized he and Ben were the only ones who’d written “OFF”. He’d glanced over at Ben and found the man already looking back at him. Ben hadn’t been giving him a particularly alluring look, just a soft open smile with pink cheeks under a thick beard, but Eddie’s body had instantly flooded with heat. He’d lain awake that night, like a complete idiot, trying desperately to push down every erotic thought that popped up while he stared at his bedroom wall and listened to Stan’s steady breathing.

            This led to him waking up pretty late in the morning. He’d hoped the house would be mostly empty, but no such luck. At least he’d been able to keep the bathroom hostage for a while without anyone noticing. He finally decides to bite the bullet before it becomes too obvious that he’s being weird and heads down stairs towards the kitchen. He takes a deep calming breath and tries to ignore the lube between his cheeks. He’s greeted with kind smiles and a way too loud exclamation of “SPAGHETTI-MAN!” from Richie.

            “Fuck, Richie,” Eddie grumbles, covering his ears, “How can you be even more annoying in the morning?” Bill stands, gathering his dishes, while Eddie heads for the fridge.

            Richie laughs and stands, his chair scraping obnoxiously on the floor. He crowds Eddie, trapping him between the fridge and his body. Bill chuckles at their antics as he washes his cup and plate while Ben and Mike turn their attention back to their newspapers. Eddie rolls his eyes and attempts to ignore Richie’s usual stupid behavior and focuses on his search for the orange juice.

            That is, until Richie’s lips brush right up against his ear and quietly teases, “Shower was runnin’ an awful long time.” Eddie stiffens and turns his head to look at him, attempting to keep his face carefully blank but he can feel a blush crawling up his neck.

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eddie replies evenly. Richie smirks, eyeing him knowingly. Richie abruptly brings his hand back and smacks Eddie’s ass cheek with a loud **WHACK** that rings out through the kitchen. Eddie yelps, his still over sensitive skin tingling, drawing the other men’s attention. Richie laughs in Eddie’s furious flushed face and plants a messy kiss to his cheek before leaping out of the way when Eddie takes a swipe at him. Eddie growls and thumps his foot on the ground in frustration. Mike sighs, puts his newspaper down, and glances at his watch before standing.

            “Let’s get him out of here before Eddie murders him,” Mike tells Bill who nods.

            “Awww come on,” Richie says, but Bill is already grabbing him and dragging him away while Mike leans over their circular kitchen table to press a goodbye kiss to Ben’s cheek. Ben gives him a fond smile and a wave and Mike circles over to the still miffed Eddie. Bill forces Richie towards their front door.

            “Bye guys!” Bill calls, laughter in his voice, still trying to block Richie’s playful attempts to get passed him.

            “See you later!” Richie calls next, “Don’t have too much fun!”

            “Bill, for the love of god, don’t come home with him,” Eddie says. Mike chuckles and cups Eddie’s face, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s forehead. Eddie can’t help the small smile that spreads across his face.

            “Love you too!” Richie cackles and Bill laughs and pushes him out of the door and finally closes the door behind them. Eddie sighs and rolls his eyes. Mike chuckles.

            “Ignore him,” Mike advices, tucking a stray hair behind Eddie’s ear, “Just enjoy your day off.” Eddie huffs but smiles again.

            “I’ll _try_ ,” Eddie says sarcastically, making Mike laugh. Mike leans in and presses a kiss to Eddie’s cheek this time. “Have a good day,” Eddie says with a grin.

            “You too,” he says, moving away to grab his coat and bag, “You too, Ben.”

            “We will,” Ben calls and then Eddie and Ben are alone. Which is… good, but insanely awkward. The amount of times he and Ben have gotten the apartment for themselves could be counted on one hand and the same could be said about the amount of times they've had sex. It was a fucking shame in Eddie’s opinion, but he can’t exactly complain since he’s the one who decided they’d only have sex if they were totally alone.  Eddie had… his reasons and Ben was understanding, but Eddie couldn't help feeling guilty for being the only one dictating when they had sex.

            So there they are, doing what they do every time, staring at each other from across the room and anxiously wondering how to broach the topic. Eddie, because of his guilt, and Ben because he doesn't want to pressure Eddie. It’s a vicious cycle. Eddie leans against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest, watching Ben watch him back. His eyes drag over Ben’s face, taking in the familiar kind green eyes, the slope of his bridge that ends on a round nose, and finally the thick but well maintained beard. Eddie’s fingers itch with the urge to scrape his nails through it. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and Ben’s eyes immediately focus on the action.

            “Do you wanna have sex?” Eddie blurts out, his voice too loud in the empty apartment. He grimaces at his own lack of tact or grace.

            “Yes,” Ben says a little too quickly in return.

            “Cool,” Eddie croaks, but makes no move from his spot. Ben scrubs the back of his neck, leaning back in his chair.

            “Now?” Ben asks tentatively.

            “Yes, please,” Eddie breathes and suddenly Ben’s chair is scraping against the floor and he’s standing. Eddie is in his space in an instant. He cups Ben’s cheeks, kissing him deeply, and runs his fingers through Ben’s beard, enjoying the feeling and the resulting hum of pleasure from Ben.

            Ben hooks his thick hands under Eddie’s thighs and lifts. Eddie immediately wraps his legs around Ben’s waist and Ben easily holds him up. Despite his weight gain from lack of exercise and slacking on his usually strict diet, he was by far the strongest one in the house and Eddie felt nothing but safe in Ben’s arms. Eddie is already becoming frantic, his entire body is burning and Ben’s hands are both the balm and the gasoline. Ben gives a low moan and palms his ass and Eddie is happy to find he’s not the only one feeling desperate. He whines into Ben’s mouth, clenching his legs tighter around Ben’s waist, carding his fingers through Ben’s short cropped dirty blond hair. Ben squeezes and Eddie arches against him, gasping quietly.

            “Fuck,” Eddie moans against Ben’s mouth. He drags his lips over Ben’s face, feeling the sharp bristles of Ben’s beard scrapping across the smooth skin of his face, nipping his jaw. “Want you so much, so perfect.” Ben preens, smiling against Eddie’s shoulder and pressing a kiss there. Ben starts heading for the living room, not even pretending to be able to handle stairs with Eddie kissing and nipping at his neck and jaw. He carefully sits Eddie down on their ridiculously long couch that swallows up nearly all of the space in the room. For a long time it was the only piece of furniture they had, deemed a necessity by Richie.

            Eddie is reluctant to let go but he slides his arms and legs free. Ben leans in and kisses Eddie soft and sweet and Eddie melts. He cups Ben’s cheeks and takes another moment to feel the hair against his palms, smiling against Ben’s lips, before Ben pulls away and stands over him. Eddie looks up at him, eyes big and blown, hooking his bottom lip between his teeth loosely, a trick he’s picked up from watching Richie, and begins undoing Ben’s jeans without breaking eye contact. Why Ben feels the need to put on regular clothes on his day off, Eddie will never understand.

            Ben shivers, eyes flicking between Eddie’s hand and his face. He reaches up and strokes his fingers through Eddie’s soft wavy hair. Eddie’s fingers falter and he closes his eyes. Ben chuckles and slides his hand down to Eddie’s cheek, cupping his face. Eddie slowly grins and presses into it, turning his head to kiss Ben’s palm and Ben stops breathing for a second. Eddie finally opens his eyes and looks up at him again to find Ben is just staring at him dumbly.

            “Do I have something on my face, handsome?” Eddie laughs. Ben jerks and flushes, rubbing the side of his neck sheepishly. Eddie bites the inside of his cheek, trying and failing, to tamper down his grin. He reaches up and grabs Ben by the front of his soft polo and guides him down on top of him, laying himself out on the worn in couch cushions. Ben goes easily, situating himself between Eddie’s legs and carefully keeping his weight off of Eddie’s smaller body. Ben’s been self-conscious about his recent weight gain, rounding out and widening his face, arms, and stomach, and hating how much his childhood obesity has fucked his metabolism up. Eddie on the other hand has come to the realization that Ben could probably be 50 years old with no hair and a beer belly and Eddie would still find him sexy as hell.

            Eddie slides his hands down Ben’s broad chest, enjoying the feel of the slightly softened pecs under his palms, over his sides, and grips Ben’s wide hips. He gives a rough tug. Ben makes a noise of surprise and braces himself on his elbow next to Eddie’s head and grips the back of the couch with his other hand, effectively pressing Eddie into the couch with his weight. Instead of pushing him off or complaining, Eddie sighs contently, feeling safe and comfortable, and hooks a leg on Ben’s hip. Ben huffs.

            “Couldn't have warned me?” Ben asks. Eddie grins smugly.

            “Nope.” Eddie grinds his hips as best he can with them trapped between Ben and the couch. Ben groans. Eddie’s mouth falls open when he feels the shape of Ben’s thick erection against the V of his hip. “Shit,” he gasps, sliding his arms around Ben’s back and digging his fingers into the fabric when Ben begins rocking his hips back and forth.

            “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Eddie hisses, while Ben kisses along his throat and collar bone. “I was-ah- thinking about this all night,” he confesses, pushing his hand up the back of Ben’s shirt, letting his fingers drag over the dimples that rest at the base of his spine. Ben hums in acknowledgment, laving Eddie’s neck with affection. “Couldn't sleep.”

            “Want a nap?” Ben asks against Eddie’s throat, a small teasing smile pulling at his lips.

            “Maybe after you fuck me into the couch,” Eddie says, lightly pinching the skin of Ben’s back. He grins triumphantly when Ben turns half lidded eyes on him.

            “Yeah?” Ben asks, voice low and deep, sending shivers racing down Eddie’s spine. Eddie is already rock hard and he can feel that Ben isn't much better and _shit_ they need less clothes.

            “Fuck,” Eddie whines, “Just get your clothes off already.” He pushes at Ben’s shoulders until he sits back on his knees. Eddie immediately misses the warmth but he sits up and starts tugging at Ben’s shirt. Ben takes over and pulls it over his head. Eddie forces himself not to get distracted by the dark hair lining Ben’s pudgy stomach and chest and focuses on getting Ben’s pants down. He groans at the sight of the perfect outline of Ben’s dick through his briefs.

            Eddie can’t help himself. He leans forward and drags his tongue over the fabric. Ben gasps and his hips jerk, gripping the back of the couch and resting his other hand on Eddie’s shoulder for support. “Whoa,” Ben mumbles. Eddie blows a small puff of air on the damp spot he’s left and tingles race up his legs when Ben’s cock twitches under the fabric in response. Eddie presses a strangely innocent kiss to the damp spot before gripping the waistband of Ben’s briefs and tugging down. Saliva instantly floods his mouth. Eddie presses a firm palm to his own lap and whines. He reaches with his free hand and runs his fingertips over the side of Ben’s dick almost reverently.

            He chews his lip and tries to handle the overwhelming wave of desire that crashes over him. When he glances up, Ben is looking down at him with half lidded eyes, and Ben’s breathing is a little heavier. He wraps his fingers around the base and his hand doesn't even fit all the way around it. His ass clenches around nothing and he presses his palm a little more harshly against the erection painfully straining in his sweatpants.

            “You’re so perfect,” Eddie breathes, the words slipping out without much thought. Ben shudders and makes a quiet noise in his throat. Eddie drags his eyes from Ben’s, watching his own fist drag up the soft skin of Ben’s dick and then back down. He does this a few times, just enjoying the sights and sounds. He drags down again, pulling the foreskin back further than it already is as he goes, before leaning in and tonguing the tip. Ben’s fingers bite into his shoulder briefly before deliberately relaxing, grunting harshly. His hips give an aborted jerk and Eddie pulls just the tip into his mouth. It stretches his lips wide as he carefully sucks and Ben shakes above him.

            He’s heard the others talk about Ben, laughed at the story about Stan loudly proclaiming they’d stick to hand jobs with his eyes practically bugging out of his skull the first time he saw Ben fully hard. Bev and Richie would poke fun that the others didn't know what they were missing, and Eddie has to agree because he might be a little bit in love with Ben’s dick. He wants to blame that for how much more vocal he is compared to when he’s with the others, it’s definitely the cause for his screaming when they’re in the throes of passion, but he’s not sure it’s what causes his uncharacteristic talkativeness. Usually he goes practically none verbal in bed, unless he really focuses on getting the other person off, but there’s just something about Ben’s quiet nature, his soft touches, the loving fondness in his eyes that makes Eddie so desperately want Ben to understand how amazing he is.

            Eddie pulls off and sticks his tongue out and lightly rests the head on his tongue and looks up at Ben. Ben’s eyes widen and he stares down at Eddie with blown eyes and his mouth hanging open in shocked arousal.

            “W-Where did you learn that?” Ben asks, his voice wobbling. Eddie feels his lips tug at the corners and he light pats Ben’s tip on his tongue instead of answering. “Richie,” Ben answers for himself, sighing the name out.

            “He’s very visual,” Eddie agrees, moving so it rests against his cheek, his eyes bright with amusement. Ben reaches down and cups Eddie’s other cheek, running his thumb under Eddie’s eye and looking at Eddie with so much fondness and love that Eddie feels suddenly inappropriate having a dick next to his face. He releases Ben and stares up at him, feeling inexplicably shy. Ben sits on his own legs and leans in, kissing Eddie softly. Eddie leans into it, sighing. He moves his hands to the hem of his own shirt and pulls away from the kiss long enough to pull his sleep shirt over his head before leaning back into the kiss and tossing his shirt to the side.

            He plants his hands on Ben’s chest, taking a second to enjoy the soft skin and hair under his fingers. Ben’s body jerks slightly when Eddie accidentally scrapes a short nail over Ben’s nipple. Eddie grins and pushes at Ben’s chest, guiding Ben down onto his back. He crawls on top of Ben, straddling his lap. Eddie pulls away with his hands resting on Ben’s chest, staring down at him. Ben stares back, holding Eddie’s hips lightly. Eddie drags his eyes over Ben’s face and chest, grinding his clothed ass back against Ben’s erection. Ben gasps, tilting his head back, and tightening his grip.

            “So perfect,” Eddie sighs again, running his hands up and down Ben’s chest slowly. His eyes linger on a light misshapen ‘H’ scar that nearly blends in with the old white stretch marks that reach up Ben’s abdomen. Ben frowns but doesn't say anything.

            He slides his hands back up, taking a second to massage his thumbs against the meat of Ben’s ribs, and folds himself over Ben’s body, digging his knees into the couch. He sets his elbows against Ben’s chest, resting his forearms on top of each other so he’s hovering close to Ben’s face. He absently plays with the longer hairs that line the separation between Ben’s pecs. Ben runs his hands up and down Eddie’s sides. Eddie leans in and kisses his lips, working his tongue into Ben’s mouth. Eddie when when Ben rolls their tongues together. He glides himself over Ben’s cock and rolls his hips.

            Ben pulls away from the kiss, a line of saliva connecting their lips, and grunts, thrusting up. Eddie reaches and grips Ben’s chin, running his thumb over Ben’s slick bottom lip. He leans in and bumps their noses together, circling his hips again, gasping into Ben’s mouth. “Mmm,” he moans, “Want you inside.”

            Ben shivers, gritting his teeth and grinding against Eddie’s straining erection. Ben’s hands slip to the waist band of Eddie’s pants, fingering the elastic. Eddie sits back up immediately, reaching frantically for the strings of his loose sleep pants, pulling the bow free and both sets of hands pull the fabric down around his thighs, causing Eddie’s dick to spring free. Eddie sits back, letting his eyes slip closed and his head drop back with a sigh as Ben’s cock finally touches the naked skin of his ass, slipping between Eddie’s cheeks. Eddie shudders and grinds down.

            Ben lets out a sharp noise and stares up at Eddie with wide eyes, “Did you…?” Eddie flushes with embarrassment and nods, eyes darting away. Ben drops his head back with a groan. “Jesus, is that why Richie-“

            “ _Yes_ ,” Eddie interrupts him, annoyance on his face, “That fucker.” Ben laughs, covering his mouth with his hand, jostling Eddie on top of him. Eddie tries not to smile and Ben looks up at Eddie with bright eyes. Eddie pulls Ben’s hand aside to kiss Ben sweetly, he pulls back only an inch, the tips of their noses brushing, “Now please, can I sit on your dick?” Ben nearly chokes on his own spit, turning his head away to cough over the side of the couch. Eddie laughs and tightens his legs on Ben’s hips so he doesn't fall off.

            Eddie sits up and reaches into the pocket of his sweats and pulls out a small bottle of lube and a condom while Ben wipes the tear that’s sliding down towards his beard. Ben stares at him for a moment before reaching into his own pocket. He pulls out three condoms and his own small bottle.

            They stare at each other for a long moment then laugh. “At least we’re on the same page,” Ben snickers. Eddie stands on his knees so he’s no longer on Ben’s lap, pulling one of the smaller condoms open and rolling it onto his own erection before doing the same to one of the larger ones to expertly roll onto Ben’s dick. He grips the base of Ben’s cock and aims it upward so he can drizzle lube over the tip. He bites his bottom lip and watches it slide down the condom and pumps his fist to spread it around. Ben’s face twitches but he doesn't otherwise react. Eddie can feel anticipation boiling under his skin. He positions his hips over Ben’s and uses his hold to press the tip against his lubed hole.

            “Can I?” Eddie asks quietly, desperation making his voice break.

            “You sure?” Ben asks carefully, rubbing a thumb reassuringly against Eddie’s hipbone. Eddie nods eagerly, his eyes wide and genuine. Ben can’t help but be surprised by Eddie’s enthusiasm, he’s used to nerves and some anxiety, but Eddie seems to be shaking with need. “Okay.” Ben barely has the word out before Eddie is sitting back.

            Ben groans, deep in his throat, eyes squeezing shut tight. Eddie’s mouth falls open and his head drops forward with his chin digging into his chest.

            “Fuck!” he moans, placing both hands against Ben’s chest once the heads in. He pants heavily and sinks down further, loud moans and whines spilling from his throat. The lube and his preparation helped but the stretch is intense and burns a little, but he pushes through it, knowing what’s to come. Ben holds himself carefully still, watching Eddie through a cracked open eye with some concern. He finally sinks down fully, his eyes practically rolling in his head when Ben’s cock presses perfectly against his prostate.

            “Oh my God!” Eddie gasps, feeling the pain recede the moment he’s seated. He whimpers and grinds his hips forward and back in a slow rolling motion that has them both clawing at each other desperately. Ben is forcing himself to be more careful, not wanting to hurt Eddie but unwilling to takes his hands off Eddie’s body while Eddie drags his short nails down Ben’s chest. Eddie forces his head up and locks eyes with Ben. Eddie keeps eye contact while he carefully clenches and drags his hips up, nearly off of Ben’s cock. It takes everything in Ben not to close his eyes at the onslaught of pleasure, his hips jerking up.

            “Fuckfuckfuck,” Eddie groans, sinking back down, “Hnngg, so _so_ fucking good.” He can already feel heat pooling in his abdomen and he grits his teeth and forces himself to stop about half way down and Ben makes a desperate noise in the back of his throat. “Hold on, wait, wait,” Eddie begs, Ben gets that concerned crease between his brows again even while he pants heavily. Eddie takes a deep breath, trying to get control of his breathing, running his hand soothingly up and down Ben’s chest and stomach.

            “Are you-,” Ben winches when his voice cracks and clears his throat, “Are you okay?” Eddie nods.

            Eddie swallows thickly and nods. “Didn't wanna come yet,” Eddie answers, his legs shaking. Ben has to shut his eyes against the admission and groans, his hips giving a sharp involuntary thrust upward that nearly knocks Eddie over. Eddie cries out in shock, his painfully hard cock twitching against his stomach.

            “Sorry!” Ben apologizes quickly, rubbing his hands up and down Eddie’s sides soothingly. Eddie closes his eyes, shaking his head, and seats himself fully.

            “Do it again,” Eddie demands quietly. Ben stops his soothing, his eyes blown, and puts both hands back on Eddie’s hips, his grip tight. He gives an experimental upward thrust that draws another, louder, cry from Eddie. He does it again.

            “Oh God!” Eddie yells, his arms growing weak while Ben begins to work up a steady rhythm. He can’t keep his loud moans down and they’re probably going to get a complaint from their neighbors again and he could not give less of a fuck. His arms give out and he bends over Ben, letting his weight rest on top of him while Ben continues to fuck up into him at a faster and faster pace. Ben moves a hand to Eddie’s hair where Eddie’s forehead is shoved against Ben’s shoulder. “Ah Ah AH, your cock, mmm, so perfect for me,” Eddie pants against Ben’s skin, “’M so close, Ben, _please_.”

            Ben presses a soft kiss to the side of Eddie’s sweat damp head, slowing his pace and focusing on deep sharp thrusts that rock roughly against Eddie’s prostate in a maddening way. His moans get higher and higher with each movement. He forces himself back up onto his hands, throws his head back and harshly sits, screaming as he shoots off into his condom.

            Ben clenches his eyes closed and digs the back of his head into the couch roughly, the muscles of his neck straining, as the insane tightness around his cock becomes impossibly tighter before fluttering beautifully around him. Eddie moans and grinds his hips down, chasing the aftershocks of his orgasm. Ben gasps, stiffens, and comes into the condom. Eddie stares down at Ben, his heavy panting out of sync with Ben’s, while he slowly lifts his hips up and off, eliciting a weak gasp from them both. It takes all his focus, but he pulls his own condom off and ties it before tossing it into a waste basket sitting next to the couch. He pulls his sleep pants up and finally, _finally_ , let’s himself drop forward on top of Ben.

            He tucks himself between Ben and the back of the couch, feeling suddenly too open and exposed and needing security, throwing an arm over Ben’s bare chest. Ben takes a moment to get himself under control before tossing his own condom and fixing his pants. He pushes his arm between Eddie and the couch so he can pull him close and strokes Eddie’s damp hair with his other hand, their breathing and hearts slowing. Eddie sighs contentedly and has a smile on his face that just won’t go away.

            “Shit,” Eddie mumbles, “We are… _really_ good at sex.” Ben laughs against Eddie’s temple and wraps his other arm around Eddie to pull him even tighter against him in a hug which Eddie returns.

            “Shower?” Ben asks, gently rubbing his hand up and down Eddie’s bicep. Eddie hums and nuzzles his face against Ben’s soft pec.

            “Nope,” Eddie says simply. Ben frowns in confusion.

            “No?”

            “We have three hours before anyone should be home and I distinctly remember telling you I wanted you to fuck me into the couch,” Eddie says, “And from where I’m standing that hasn't happened yet.” When Eddie tilts his head to meet Ben’s eyes, he finds Ben’s eyes have darkened.

            “Well, I wouldn't want to disappoint,” Ben teases. Ben is nowhere near being ready to go again, but he looks like he really wants to try anyways. Eddie laughs joyously and leans in, kissing Ben affectionately.

            “Impossible,” Eddie says quietly and grins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: I have a Tumblr now! Check it out and hit me up! https://www.tumblr.com/blog/anxiousbich
> 
> I gave Ben a thicc dick because he deserves it honestly.
> 
> I hope ya'll enjoyed this!
> 
> PLZ PLZ COMMENT!!


	2. Stan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll edit this when I'm less exhausted but just so ya'll know, fluffy Mike/Stan/Eddie at the very end

            Stan sits at his desk with his pencil in hand and his school work spread out in front of him. The rhythmic scratching noise of lead on paper is strangely soothing, but his flow is once again interrupted by a soft curse emanating from the bed behind him. He pauses, staring at the wall that his desk is up against, and sighs deeply while Eddie loudly crumples something and throws it away. He forces himself to get back to work. It’s only been a few days since his second year at uni has begun but the workload is already intense and he _needs_ to focus or he’s going to be buried. It doesn’t take long for a new noise to hit his ears, a fist roughly thumping against a mattress.

            Stan throws his pencil down and he can feel his frustration boiling over. He’s about ready to snap at Eddie to take his tantrums somewhere else, but when he whips around, the harsh words die on his tongue. Eddie is curled up on his twin bed, forehead roughly pressed to his bony knees, and his fingers yanking at his wavy brown locks. Stan can hear him harshly attempting to take deep breaths through clenched teeth that are interrupted by quiet hitching sobs. Stan’s stomach lurches painfully, he glances at his carefully organized piles of work, then stands and goes to Eddie’s side. He notes the ball of newspaper on the floor and the shredded pieces on the bed.

            Stan reaches up and carefully pries Eddie’s hands away from where they’re valiantly trying to tear Eddie’s hair out. “Why you all seem so desperate to make yourselves bald before 30, I’ll never understand,” Stan laments softly. Eddie lifts his face, revealing tear stained ruddy cheeks, and a red mark on his forehead from where his knee had been digging into his flesh. The sight of Stan’s face seems to set Eddie into a new round of fat tears and his face crumples around a sob. Stan’s heart breaks in response. He gently rubs his thumb over the red circle on Eddie’s forehead while Eddie fruitlessly attempts to rub his face on the sleeve of his shirt.

            “I’m so fucking worthless,” Eddie whispers, his voice cracking. Stan begins to gently run his fingers through Eddie’s hair, flattening it where it’s sticking out, and sweeping it over in its usual style. Stan keeps his face carefully neutral, even while the urge to shut that thinking down grows.

            “Why do you think that?” Stan asks, voice deceitfully casual.

            “You all… work so hard and know what you want and I… I can’t even hold down a job,” Eddie confesses, his voice tight and raw, “God and now I’m fucking whining to _you_ of all people.” Stan stops his hair styling and gives Eddie a flat look. Eddie rolls his eyes, “You know what I mean… you work harder than any of us.”

            Stan watches the shame and hopelessness settle over Eddie, the defeated slump in his shoulders, and he’s at a loss for words. He doesn’t know what he could possibly say to get him out of this funk. He’s never been the best at words, choosing instead to observe and listen. So, he cups Eddie’s face and kisses him. It might not be the best decision, but if nothing else it’ll buy him time to think of something that will actually help. That plan goes out the window the moment Eddie enthusiastically embraces the distraction for what it is, wrapping his arms around Stan’s neck and parting his lips.

            Stan rubs his thumb along Eddie’s jaw, moaning into his mouth. Stan gently presses Eddie back onto the bed with a firm palm to his chest. Eddie whines softly at the lack of contact, but goes willingly. Stan looks over Eddie, laid out and pliant in front of him, and feels _hunger_. He reaches over and strokes Eddie’s cheek, rubbing away any of the moisture that’s still left on Eddie’s cheeks, and glides his thumb to Eddie’s bottom lip.

            “Do you want to be good for me?” Stan asks, he knows it’s the right question when Eddie’s eyes widen, his pupils expanding minutely, and he looks at Stan eagerly. Eddie reaches up and grabs Stan’s wrist with no real strength, just holding it, and kisses the tip of Stan’s thumb. A shiver races down Stan’s spine and he presses against Eddie’s bottom lip insistently. Eddie needs little prompting to part his lips, eager to please, and pulls the digit into his mouth. Eddie’s eyelids flutter and he hums quietly with pleasure. A spark of arousal shoots down Stan’s spine as Eddie sucks with a small amount of pressure and glances up at Stan from beneath his lashes.

            Stan allows himself a moment to imagine pushing his cock between Eddie’s plush lips before slipping his thumb free. Eddie whimpers but quiets when Stan gives him a sharp look, effectively chastised. Stan leans in and kisses Eddie softly to soothe the sting and stands. He walks over to the closet that he’s claimed as his own and reaches for the innocuous box resting on the top shelf. He pulls it down and opens it up, pulling out a simple rope and a pair of soft leather handcuffs that are lined with silky smooth faux fur. He puts the box back, making sure to align the edge of the box with the edge of the shelf.

            Stan can feel Eddie watching him closely and when he turns and reveals his prize, Eddie takes a sharp intake of breath. He places the items beside Eddie on the bed, a tease, and begins digging through his side table, pulling out condoms and a small bottle of lube. He grabs a few tissues as well. He sets the items down beside the cuffs and then uses the tissues to wipe Eddie’s face, letting Eddie blow his nose, making him look a lot more like himself and less like he bawled his eyes out. He throws the tissues out and pulls off the soft V-neck he’s wearing.

            Eddie sits up, his eyes fixed on Stan’s movements, and his hands grip the hem of his shorts. Stan can’t help the smug smirk that overtakes his face. He moves a little slower, drawing it out, and flexing his muscles a little as he does.

            “You’re killing me,” Eddie whimpers, clenching the fabric even tighter. Stan watches the tight careful way Eddie is holding himself and realizes he’s waiting for orders. Stan laughs, low and deep, and it makes goosebumps rise all along Eddie’s arms. Stan folds his shirt and sets it aside.

            “Strip,” Stan commands. Eddie immediately jumps to attention, scrambling off the bed and pulling at his shirt. Stan chuckles again. “Slower.” Eddie stills with his shirt half way up his stomach. Stan gets in his space, gliding his fingertips feather light over Eddie’s sides. Eddie shakes with the effort not to giggle from the ticklish fingers, Stan’s sharp eyes watch Eddie hide his smile in the neck of his shirt and decides to back track, moving his soft touch to the ticklish spot on Eddie’s ribs until Eddie bursts into peels of high laughter.

            Stan leans in and kisses along Eddie’s nose and cheek, giving him mercy by resting the flats of his palms to Eddie’s sides more firmly and running his hands upward, pushing the shirt further up Eddie’s body. Eddie leans into Stan’s body, unconcerned with the obstacle it makes for their efforts. Eddie wants so badly to lock their lips together, but Stan is purposely avoiding his lips, peppering Eddie’s face and neck while he guides Eddie’s arms through the arm holes of his shirt. He hums quietly against Eddie’s forehead, enjoying the hot skin of Eddie’s chest and shoulders under his hands.

            “Can I touch?” Eddie asks his voice quiet and hesitant. Stan pulls back, looking at Eddie’s big brown eyes and the shirt still bunched around his neck like a weird scarf. Stan grins and gently pulls the shirt over Eddie’s head and folds it like he’d done to his own shirt despite already being riddled with creases. He sets it aside and gets back in Eddie’s space, cupping his face.

            “For now, my good boy,” Stan tells him, pressing a quick kiss to Eddie’s soft pink lips. Eddie shivers and his eyes darken at the pet name. He immediately raises his hands to Stan’s long torso and Stan hisses quietly as Eddie’s perpetually cold fingers sap the warmth from his skin. Eddie draws back quickly, eyes wide and sad, with an apology on his lips, but Stan intercepts it, grabbing Eddie’s small hands in both of his.

            Stan’s hands easily dwarf Eddie’s as he carefully rubs warmth into them before breathing his hot breath onto them. The warmth seeps into Eddie’s fingers and palms and seems to race up his arms before settling in his chest and radiating outward, leaving him breathless. Stan guides Eddie’s hands to Stan’s chest again, sighing when the warmed fingers settle on his hot skin. “Better,” Stan decides with a smile.

            Eddie stares up at him for a long beat, completely smitten, before plastering himself to Stan’s front, pressing his face to Stan’s sharp collar bone and running his hands over Stan’s sides and back. Stan grips Eddie’s hips, enjoying the feel of soft squishy flesh near his hip bones, pressing a kiss to the side of Eddie’s head, whispering his praises into Eddie’s hair until he’s a clinging shaky mess. Stan pulls back and cards his fingers into Eddie’s hair, gently tugging Eddie’s head back to look up at him, taking in the glazed eyes and flushed cheeks.

            He reaches for Eddie’s shorts, easily pushing them down his legs along with his boxers and finds Eddie already half hard. Stan lets his fingers linger on Eddie’s thigh, smirking when his cock gives a twitch of interest and he shudders.

            “Get on the bed, baby boy.” Eddie hesitates a moment, not wanting to leave Stan’s space, before heading for the bed. He’s uncertain about how Stan wants him and settles for just sitting on the edge of the bed. Stan folds Eddie’s clothes and does the same to his own pants and boxers, then walks towards Eddie. He picks up the cuffs and Eddie immediately holds his wrists out in offering. Stan takes them and places a kiss to the thin skin on the inside of Eddie’s wrist. He picks up the cuffs and begins securing Eddie’s wrists in front of him.

            Eddie immediately feels a sense of comfort he knows he wouldn’t feel with anyone outside the Losers. His shoulders slump and it suddenly feels easier to breathe despite his racing heart. Stan groans softly, rubbing his hands up and down Eddie’s forearms. “So pretty for me.”

            Eddie scoffs softly, “You’re the pretty one,” he mumbles, sounding far away to his own ears. Stan’s hand goes to the hair at the back of Eddie’s head, gripping a fistful of hair, and yanks his head back roughly, making Eddie gasp and jerk.

            “Are you arguing with me?” Stan asks, his voice low and dangerous. Eddie bites his lip, his eyes big and apologetic.

            “’M sorry,” Eddie mumbles, “I’ll be good.” Stan loosens his hold and slides his palm to Eddie’s cheek, sliding his thumb over Eddie’s pouty bottom lip.

            “Tell me our colors,” he demands firmly.

            “G-green, yellow, red,” Eddie recites dutifully, eager to prove himself.

            “Good,” Stan praises, watching Eddie preen a little under the simple praise. “What’s your color?” he asks, dropping his authoritative voice for something more kind.

            “Green,” Eddie breathes without hesitation. Stan strokes Eddie’s hair from his face and nods, not praising or condemning him, showing that his answer had no effect on Stan’s mood.

            “Don’t be afraid to tell me if you want to slow down or stop,” Stan reminds him. Eddie smiles softly.

            “I know, Stan,” Eddie agrees. He reaches up, the chain connecting his wrist clinking slightly, and grips Stan’s wrist. He presses his lips against the tip of Stan’s thumb. Stan wishes in that moment that he had a camera.

            “Get on your back,” Stan commands, tugging his hand free. He crosses his arms over his chest and watches Eddie struggle to shimmy further onto the bed. Once he’s more in the middle of the twin mattress, he lays back and settles onto the pillows, looking up at Stan expectantly for further instructions. Stan reaches out, placing a grounding hand on Eddie’s knee, sliding it up Eddie’s thigh, watching with no small amount of satisfaction as Eddie’s dick grows stiffer. Eddie flushes red and begins to squirm under Stan’s heavy gaze, his knees coming together. Stan digs his fingers into the meat of Eddie’s leg in warning, making Eddie whine and force his legs back open and flat on the bed.

            Stan loosens his hold and instead massages Eddie’s inner thigh, working his way up until he’s only a fingertip’s length away from Eddie’s balls. Stan lets Eddie go, making Eddie whimper and dig the back of his head into his pillows in frustration. Stan skims his fingers over the skin of Eddie’s stomach, right above where Eddie’s hard cock is resting, and watches his muscles twitch under his fingertips.

            “Hold your arms up.” Eddie immediately lifts his arms, with a small tremor in his biceps, feeling jellylike with the adrenaline coursing through him. Stan grabs the rope and weaves it around one of the posts on Eddie’s headboard then ties it around the chain connecting Eddie’s wrists, giving a firm tug to check if it’s tight enough. Eddie is watching his every move with dark eyes framed by thick lashes. “Is that good, baby boy?” Stan asks quietly, gliding the back of his hand down Eddie’s outstretched arm, sending shivers down Eddie’s back. Eddie gasps quietly, abdomen muscles jumping, and his wrists straining against the cuffs with the urge to move.

            Eddie’s heart jumps in his chest when Stan’s long pale fingers circle his throat, fingertips pressing lightly into the sides of his neck. “I asked you a question,” Stan reminds him dangerously, gaze sharp and piercing, causing a flush to spread down Eddie’s chest. Eddie leans into the hold, pressing his throat further into Stan’s palm, just enough to feel the pressure on his windpipe without actually cutting off his airway.

            “Yes,” he chokes out, “G-good.” Stan resists the urge to lean in and nip Eddie’s lip. He releases Eddie’s throat and moves between Eddie’s legs and hooks one of Eddie’s legs on his arm. Eddie shivers with anticipation, feeling exposed and hypersensitive. Stan slides his hand down Eddie’s twitching thigh and lets his fingers slide over Eddie’s perfect ass.

            “Hmm, what should we do?” Stan wonders aloud, letting his thumb brush over Eddie’s hole. Eddie’s hips jerk in surprise and he gasps quietly.

            “A-anything,” Eddie whines, not wanting to disappoint Stan in case the question wasn’t rhetorical.

            “I could fuck you like this,” Stan muses, rubbing Eddie’s knee softly. Eddie whimpers and nods his head, looking slightly dazed as he arches his back and fails in his attempt to bare down on the thumb that’s now pressing more firmly against him. Stan smirks, dipping the tip of his thumb in. Eddie’s falls open and he digs the back of his head into the pillow, his toes curling at the feel of the dry stretch. Stan presses in a little further, gently pushing in and out in short movements, just enjoying the shifts in Eddie’s expression and his desperation for more. Stan slips his thumb free and drops Eddie’s legs. “But I won’t.”

            Eddie looks at Stan, wide eyed, while Stan crawls up Eddie’s body and straddles his chest, careful not to put all his weight on Eddie’s stomach. Stan smirks darkly down at Eddie’s bewildered and panicked expression. “I think,” Stan says, his voice going low and deep, planting his hands on either side of Eddie’s head as he leans in until the tips of their noses are touching, “I’d rather make you my own personal fuck toy.”

            Eddie makes a soft desperate noise in the back of his throat, his eyes flicking between Stan’s lips and his eyes. Stan closes the distance and kisses him slow and sweet. The handcuffs clink as Eddie strains to press into the kiss. When Stan pulls away, he doesn’t go far and his smile is softer than it’s been since they started.

            “Color?” he asks quietly.

            “Green, so green,” Eddie says just as quietly, not wanting to break the moment. He swallows thickly, momentarily shy as he glances away from Stan’s gaze before glancing up at him from beneath his lashes, a palpable heat behind his eyes. “ _Use me, Stan_.” Stan grits his teeth against the groan that’s threatening to spill out of him and break his image of control, a shiver of heavy want races down his spine, and he captures Eddie in a much rougher kiss. Eddie moans, tilting his head and responding enthusiastically, but mostly just lets Stan take control.

            Stan rubs his hands over Eddie’s chest, letting his nails lightly scrape over Eddie’s pert nipples. Eddie gasps and jerks lightly underneath him. Stan kisses down Eddie’s jaw, giving a playful nip. He sits up, placing his palms flat on Eddie’s chest, arches his back in a way that he _knows_ shows off his angles, and stares down at Eddie in what Richie lovingly calls his ‘Bitch-Face’. Eddie shivers, staring up at Stan with awed eyes. Satisfaction dances with the erotic heat in Stan’s body.

            Stan reaches for the lube that’s been neglected until now and pops the cap. Eddie’s eyes are fixed on his hands, his focus never straying. Stan draws it out, drizzling the cool lube onto his long pale fingers, massaging it between his fingers to warm it up before reaching behind himself. Eddie’s eyes suddenly go wide and a shuddery whimper escapes him. It seems to have suddenly hit him just what kind of treat he’s being given.

            Stan wasn’t very good at hiding how much he liked being fucked despite how hard he tried to hide it, but he was also very picky about when he let someone fuck him. If asked he’d probably say he just needed to be in the right mood or it just wasn’t really his cup of tea, but the truth was he hasn’t quite let go of the future he had convinced himself he wanted. A life where he was a successful accountant with a dutiful housewife and maybe a child. That future didn’t exactly coincide with being fucked six ways from Sunday by his childhood friends, so like with most things he kept himself disciplined, but sometimes he let it slip when one of the Losers earns it, at least that’s how he rationalizes it. He can’t deny that the way the Losers look at him, like he’s bestowed some great gift upon them, definitely makes those slips feel worth it.

            The way Eddie tugs at his restraints and squirms and whines certainly shows that he knows exactly how lucky he is and he’s desperate to participate. Stan smirks down at himself and keeps his face carefully unchanged as he braces back on his middle finger. He presses unrelentingly until it’s pressed in up to the last knuckle and he sighs quietly, letting his lids go half mass. Instead of thrusting his finger in and out like he normal would, Stan lifts himself up and sits back on his finger, rolling his hips in a tantalizing way. It doesn’t quite give him what he needs but it’s a nice torturous preview of what’s to come.

            “Stan, please,” Eddie begs. Stan gives Eddie a sharp look while he continues to rock himself on his lubed up finger.

            “I don’t remember sex toys being able to talk,” Stan tsks, shaking his head in a disappointed way, without ever stopping his movements. Eddie doesn’t shrink from Stan’s scolding as he did before.

            “ _Please_ , I wanna be useful, let me be useful,” Eddie begs, his voice cracking. Stan stills his hips, staring down at Eddie’s teary expression, not letting his own face give anything away. He glances over Eddie’s torso and his restrained hands before fixing his eyes on Eddie’s pretty swollen lips. Eddie catches on fairly quickly, licking his lips in what he hopes is enticing. Stan reaches over with his free hand, stroking his thumb over Eddie’s lower lip.

            “I _could_ fuck this pretty mouth,” he wonders casually, drawing a needy noise from Eddie. Stan chuckles, letting his lip go. As soon as his bottom lip is free, Eddie bites it tightly, afraid he might speak and cause Stan to take it back. “Want me to fuck your throat while I finger myself open for you?” he asks, circling his hips with his finger still buried deep. Eddie tosses his head back and digs his head into the pillow, biting his lip harder and tugging at the cuffs until they start to make his wrists red despite the fur lining. Stan frowns, slipping his finger free, and strokes Eddie’s hair with his clean hand.

            “Sshhh,” Stan soothes quietly, “Relax, baby boy.” Eddie takes a deep breath, releasing his lip on the outward breath, letting his body slowly relax into the mattress. Stan leans in and kisses Eddie softly before pulling back, but he doesn’t go very far, “Do you want that?” Eddie nods, swallowing thickly. “Use your words.”

            “Y-Yes,” Eddie says after a moment, “I want that.” Stan nods softly and presses another loving kiss to Eddie’s lips before sitting up again. He helps sit Eddie up, propping him against the headboard, carefully adjusting the pillows behind his head, careful not to put weight on his handcuffed wrists that are now just above his head. Eddie looks at Stan with lust filled eyes and opens his mouth in offering.

            Stan brackets Eddie’s waist with his legs and stands on his knees, almost perfectly aligning his hips to Eddie’s face. Eddie goes nearly cross eyed trying to keep his eyes on Stan’s rock hard cock. “If you need to stop, I want you to shake my hand really hard,” Stan tells him, waiting for Eddie to look at him and nod before gripping himself with his clean hand and guiding his tip into Eddie’s waiting mouth. Eddie makes a small noise of contentment, letting his tongue sweep over the slit as Stan presses forward. Stan’s carefully controlled façade cracks slightly, his brows twitching and his throat working around a dry swallow as he presses in about half way before letting his shaft go and moving his grip to one of Eddie’s hands, keeping his hold loose enough that any change would be more immediately noticeable.

            Eddie bobs his head forward, guiding Stan’s cockhead towards the back of his throat, and back again. He glances up at Stan to see if it’s okay that he went ahead without instruction. Stan looks down at Eddie’s big questioning eyes and the way his mouth stretches taut around his cock and he can’t find it in himself to scold Eddie, giving a quick nod of his head. Eddie let’s his eyes slip shut, working Stan’s cock in a way that has Stan nearly shaky. He suddenly pushes forward as far as he can, expertly pushing passed his gag reflex, carefully breathing through his nose. Stan grits his teeth, attempting to gain control of himself.

            He reaches back with his lubed fingers once again, easily pressing his middle finger back in, finding the attention to his cock completely washing away any of the sting he’d felt before. Eddie abruptly takes him all the way down and swallows around him, pulling a noise from Stan’s throat. Stan presses a second finger in, fucking himself in earnest, and letting more of his control slip as he drops his head back. After a few amazing seconds, Eddie shakes Stan’s hand, making the chain of the cuffs clink together, while pulling his head back as far as he can. Stan pulls his hips back the rest of the way, slipping himself free of Eddie’s mouth.

            Eddie coughs and takes a deep breath. Stan watches him carefully, “Color? Do you need anything?” he asks. Eddie shakes his head.

            “Still green,” Eddie assures, clearing his throat, “I just over did it.” Eddie looks up at Stan, eyes tracing where his arm is still angled behind him, before landing on his tilted down face. “You’re so gorgeous,” Eddie says softly, taking advantage of the break in tension. He kisses Stan’s hipbone gently then mouths at Stan’s slick cock. Stan sucks in a sharp breath. He guides himself back into Eddie’s mouth when Eddie looks up at him expectantly. Eddie doesn’t move this time, just waits. Stan takes the hint. He once again grabs Eddie’s hand loosely and begins fucking his mouth in careful shallow thrusts, moving the fingers still buried inside him at the same pace. Stan moans quietly and drops his chin to his chest, his coiled curls hanging around his face, as he gets into a steady rhythm. He watches Eddie watch him, looking more than happy to be used for Stan’s pleasure.

            Eddie presses forward as Stan presses in, pushing Stan’s cock further down his throat, showing he’s okay to take more. Stan picks up the pace a little, fucking Eddie’s mouth properly, and presses a third finger into himself. Eddie moans around him, making a valiant effort to keep watching Stan, but his eyes finally slide shut, taking what Stan wants to give him.

            Stan is trying desperately to keep the tight hold on his composure, but it’s already slipping quickly from his grasp. Stan slips free of Eddie’s mouth, surprising them both at the suddenness of it, and pulls his fingers free. He sits back on Eddie’s thighs, grabbing one of the condoms resting beside them and quickly tears it open. He slides it over Eddie’s weeping cock then slicks it up. He shuffles forward on his knees so he can properly line him up, and sits.

            Eddie chokes on a gasp, tossing his head back against the pillow between him and the headboard. Stan feels his control completely slip. His mouth drops open at the abrupt fullness and a groan is pulled from deep in his chest. “Shit,” Stan mumbles between gritted teeth, gripping Eddie’s shoulders. It’s been a few weeks since he’s been so stretched and every time he goes without, he always forgets how fucking _good_ it is. “E-Eddie-.”

            “Green!” Eddie gasps, before Stan can ask, his hips jerking up, “Please move, _please_.” He lifts his head and looks at Stan, his eyes screaming desperation and lust. Stan circles his hips, his eyes rolling slightly at the feeling. Stan lifts his hips and guides himself back down as slowly as his shaking aching thighs allow, rocking his hips in as steady a rhythm as he can. Eddie lets out his usual small quiet breathy noises while his toes curl into the sheets and he tries to control his hips. Despite Stan’s earlier careful control, he’s much more uninhibited, moaning and gasping loudly, writhing in Eddie’s lap.

            Without warning, Eddie bends his knees, puts his feet flat on the bed, and fucks his hips up. Stan shrieks, digging his fingers into Eddie’s shoulders. He drops his head back, “Oh _Fuck_!” Stan gasps. He slides his hands around Eddie’s throat and Eddie jerks his hips up again sharply in response. “ _Fuck me, Eddie_ ,” Stan commands, his voice like gravel, pressing his thumb a bit more firmly into Eddie’s throat.

            Eddie whines, gripping the chain of his cuffs and thrusts up into him, adjusting the angle based on the sounds spilling from Stan’s mouth. Stan presses down to meet Eddie’s thrusts as he feels his orgasm building. Stan cries out, coming between them, and his grip unintentionally tightens, momentarily cutting off Eddie’s airway.

            Eddie’s eyes roll and his breath stalls, his hips jerking erratically as Stan rides out his orgasm. Eddie’s orgasm crashes over him, coming hard into his condom. Eddie’s taut body abruptly relaxes. His leg slides down flat against the bed while his other legs falls sideways on the bed. Stan releases Eddie’s throat and carefully lifts himself off.

            Eddie slowly opens his eyes and looks at Stan. His eyes are glazed and dark and his hair is ruffled and messy. It’s so strange how similar he looks to when he’d been crying, wrecked and falling apart, but instead of being trapped in his own head, he’s relaxed and out of himself. Eddie is always beautiful, but right now he’s _breathtaking_. Stan kisses Eddie softly and carefully undoes the cuffs.

            As soon as Eddie’s hands are free, he reaches up and cups Stan’s cheeks. “Relax,” Stan says softly, “I’ll clean up.” He kisses Eddie’s cheek and stands on slightly shaky legs. He grabs a wet wipe from Eddie’s side table and wipes his abdomen down while Eddie peels the condom off. Stan pulls his boxers on and takes the tied off condom between carefully pinched fingers and a wrinkle of his nose that draws a tired laugh from Eddie. He steps out and heads for the bathroom where he wraps up the condom and tosses it before washing his hands.

            “Hey,” a voice says from the doorway. When Stan looks up, Mike is watching his meticulous washing with a small smile. “Need help?” he asks.

            “I don’t want to leave him alone too long,” Stan admits, glancing down at himself where he’s beginning to feel dirty and in need of at least a quick wash off in the shower. Mike chuckles.

            “Say no more,” he replies, taking the dampened towel that Stan offers before heading towards Eddie and Stan’s shared room. He turns the shower on and moves quickly to clean himself of the lube and spit on his body, not wanting to take too long in case Eddie isn’t taking his absence well. He returns to his room in a towel to find Eddie cleaned, dressed, and now laying on Stan’s twin with Mike spooning him. Eddie is talking quietly, playing with Mike’s thick fingers where they’re resting on Eddie’s abdomen.

            Stan pushes down the discomfort of having them on his bed without asking and starts getting dressed into some clean pajamas. He has a good idea of what Eddie must have been saying when Mike’s hold tightens and he says something against the side of Eddie’s head that has Eddie looking uncertain. He turns in Mike’s arms and presses close to his chest, wrapping his arms around Mike’s waist in a tight hug that Mike returns. Stan sits on the edge of the bed, stroking Eddie’s hair gently.

            “You okay?” Stan asks softly. Eddie turns his head to look at Stan over his shoulder and smiles at him sweetly.

            “Yeah, I’m okay.” Stan glances over at his desk where his pile of work is still waiting for him. He’d normally never contemplate leaving someone’s side after something so intense, but he feels a little less pressured with Mike there to shower Eddie with affection. It’s not that he doesn’t want to stay or he’s unable to fit, they’ve definitely mastered fitting multiple people on a twin, but he can’t help but worry.

            “Stay,” Mike tells him, breaking through his thought, “Take a nap with us. I’ve been doing homework all day and this is exactly what I need.” Stan huffs a small laugh. He leans over Eddie and presses a sweet kiss to Mike’s lips. He knows exactly what Mike is doing. Stan has always found it easier to let go a little for the sake of his friends and Mike is giving him a good excuse to ease his mind enough to relax. Eddie flips back over and fits his back to Mike’s chest, giving Stan enough space to squeeze in with his back to Eddie.

            Eddie’s arms go around Stan’s waist, holding him tight against his chest, keeping his hold secure in case Stan is too close to the edge, and tangles their legs together. Mike folds his arm around them both, resting his palm on Stan’s hip. Eddie buries his face into the back of Stan’s neck and sighs. Stan covers the small hand resting on his stomach, rubbing his thumb over the soft skin, and listens to Mike and Eddie’s breathing even out.

            Eddie’s hand goes lax and the warm breath on his neck slowly lulls Stan to sleep.


End file.
